Yeah... maybe this is the best plan. I mean, given Tau Ceti's position in the sky, I've got less day ahead of me than behind.
As long as I can see my boot prints in the sand, I'll have no problem.
If and when those disappear, I'll have to navigate by landmarks like the caravel site and, past that, the enormous crater.
If my luck holds, I'll make it back to the Varia before sunset.
Maybe once I'm there, I can build a compass out of spare parts. I think I still remember how to do that.
Anyway. Enough talkin'. No time for chattin'. Not even enough time for puttin' the "g" at the end of words.
That's how you know I'm really running' short on time.
All right. Back to hikin'.
[Taylor is busy]
I'm back in sight of the caravel wreckage. I never though I'd be grateful to see this haunted house of a starship again.
I'm feeling weak as anything.
The rations from the Varia will keep body and soul together nominally...
...but I don't think they were designed for the active, outdoors lifestyle I've been living ever since I got marooned.
From here, if memory seves, it's better than four hours' walk back to the Varia.
At least, that's how long it took me to get from there to here earlier. And that was WITH a working compass.
My suit's headlamp is totally dead at this point.
Once Tau Ceti sets, I'll be completely blind.
I guess my options are to forge ahead toward the Varia, and pray I get there before I run out of light...
...or else make camp here, despite how scary that sounds, and get busy figuring out how to stay warm for the night.
Keep going to the Varia.